


april showers bring may flowers

by nanakomatsus



Category: NU'EST
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Mages, Magical Realism, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanakomatsus/pseuds/nanakomatsus
Summary: minki is a travelling witch hit by a storm. jonghyun is the mage that finds him dumped on his rose bed.or, in which minki and jonghyun literally and figuratively fall for each other
Relationships: Choi Minki | Ren/Kim Jonghyun | JR
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37
Collections: Spring Blessings (Nu'est 8th Anniversary Fic Fest)





	1. the gardener and his guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while since i last took part in a fest. i'm glad it's this one. this has been sitting in my drafts (along with many, many others) for _months_ so when the theme of the fest was revealed, i knew instantly that it was finally time for me to unearth this and go back to my roots. jren's relationship is something i hold close to my heart. i've loved them since debut. 
> 
> i chose to self-prompt mainly because i didn't want to stress myself out about whether or not it would meet the prompter's expectations. because this is a pairing and a fic dear to me, i wanted to be able to write it comfortably. if you've been following my works for the past few years, this one is definitely a huge departure from my usual style. first of all, _fluff_. second of all, _happy endings_. both of these things rarely appear in my works (if at all). surprisingly, it was one of the easiest to write and i really enjoyed the process. i hope it shows. and now, to share it with you all... i hope you guys like it as much as i do.
> 
> as with all my other works, the soundtrack is the most important part:  
> all i want is you - barry louis polisar  
> real love baby - father john misty  
> someday - tatsuro yamashita

_‘-sunny skies over the north-east, a little cloudy to the south and - this just in folks, an unexpected storm warning in the-’_

“Let’s switch it up! The forecast is a little boring today don’t you think, Lucky?” 

The little white cat in his bag purrs contentedly, its bright blue eyes glimmering as it curiously takes in their surroundings. Minki smiles adoringly, giving it a brief, gentle pat. He takes a deep breath, letting out a big, relaxed sigh, hands behind his head.

The wind whitles in his ears, ruffling his purple hair. The sky is clear of migrating birds. Down below, wide glades of flowers with interspersed patches of forest stretch as far as the eye can see, the crisp outline of the mountain range a grand frame for this painting. The light scent of clematis fills the air. 

Minki’s lip quirks as he finally settles on a track. _‘I just dance in the sweet memories-’_

It’s a good day for flying.

They glide on pleasantly for about an hour more, heading West when suddenly, Minki feels a tingle in his nose. He scrunches his eyebrows and sucks in a deep breath. 

“Smells like...” he begins. His fears are confirmed a moment later when he sees the big grey cloud heading towards them at an unnaturally fast pace, no doubt the work of magic. The fine hairs on the back of his neck spike up. Lucky whines and burrows deep into the duffel bag, disappearing into a bundle of clothes. 

With a huff, Minki tightens his grip and lowers his body closer to the stick of his broom, eyes narrowing in defiance towards the inconvenience ahead. He’s not going to be able to out-fly the cloud, so might as well weather it as best as he can.

“Hang tight, Lucky,” he warns before zooming off at full speed.

First comes a blast of cold wind. He grits his teeth, continuing on with more exertion.

Then comes the rain; harsh and chilling. More like buckets of ice being poured on them. His focus begins to waver as the grey expands overhead. Maybe if he could just hold on a little more-

There’s a rumble up above and a flash of yellow and blue. The lightning strikes right through the oak between his hands. Almost in slow motion, he watches as a thin line of electricity travels through the wood, opening up a fine crack. 

The broom explodes then, knocking him out cold. Minki falls out of the sky and into the valley below.

...

He awakens to the sound of running water, the smell of marmalade and his body wrapped in warmth. 

Minki’s eyes flutter open, greeted by a blue sky framed by the greenest hills he’s ever seen. He stares in awe for a few long moments, mouth agape, a little dazed. He’s barely registered the pale mint sweater he’s wearing that _definitely_ isn’t his when there’s a knock at the door.

“Hello? Are you awake? I’ve got breakfast-” The invitation is interrupted as Minki lunges onto the stranger, bringing him down with a surprised yelp and pinning him onto the bed. 

“Where am I and what did you do to Lucky?” He growls, magic crackling at his fingertips.

“Lucky? The cat?” The stranger croaks under his weight, holding his arms out in surrender.

“Yes the cat,” Minki hisses. Just then comes a meow from the doorway as Lucky -beautiful white and grey Lucky- strolls in leisurely before coming to a stop by the bed, staring up at the two of them curiously with its brilliant cerulean eyes.

After a tense pause, Minki eases himself back, allowing his captor some breathing space. Still, he keeps his eyes fixed threateningly.

“Explain yourself,” he orders coldly. The other man massages his neck, sore from the shock of being wrestled and pinned down by his surprisingly strong guest.

“You, ah, fell from the sky… onto my rose bed and, yeah you looked quite out of it so…” He trails off, sheepishly waving around the room.

“My broom?” The witch questions steely. His ‘captor’ pauses hesitantly.

“It’s out back.”

And there, lying across the messy work table is Minki’s beloved oak broom, split cleanly in half, missing a few pieces here and there-

“I tried to mend it but it rejected my magic every time,” he explains later- Kim Jonghyun’s the name, he’d introduced himself hastily, almost shyly. A mage and freelance woodworker. Minki eyes him from across the table, wholly unimpressed (though his sandwich-making skills are otherwise, he hates to admit).

“I could help you make another one but you’d have to do the final binding yourself, of course-” Jonghyun offers kindly. Minki’s gaze floats behind him, out a window where, at the edge of the garden, the ruined rose bed sits, destroyed by his own carelessness. Guilt wells up in the depths of his heart.

With a reluctant sigh, he turns back to the mage.

“Fine. You make me a new broom and I’ll help you restore your roses and the rest of your garden,” he says flatly. Jonghyun’s eyes widen in slight surprise.

“You don’t have to-”

“As payment for the lodge and medicine as well,” Minki adds, refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer, purple orbs set on Jonghyun’s hazel ones. With a shrug, the mage holds out a hand.

“Alright, then.”

Minki eyes him for a moment, this time merely observing the smaller man without any judgement before taking his hand. Sparks of yellow and blue fly as energy crackles around the two, the agreement set in stone.

...

It’s an impressive garden, Minki admits, stepping out into the bright morning sun the next day. 

There’s more bush than lawn up front, all of them abundant with flowers. A faint dirt path leads through the evergreen mess, just enough for one person to get through. Minki decides to wander around first before getting to any work. 

He takes a right, through the overgrown wisteria tunnel that leads around the back of the cottage. Through the tendrils and fencing, he can see the steep slope of the hill, merging with the valley below. The nearest village is a good few miles to the horizon. He wonders what’s beyond. 

Coming round the back, he’s greeted by bougainvilleas and hydrangeas of all shades, their shoots growing almost as high as the house. He gets to the rose bed somewhere further, sitting on the edge of a small meadow; one end stopping at the edge of the hill, overlooking the valley and the other disappearing into the forest beyond.

There’s a couple of fallen trees around, crushing whatever was growing beneath it. The real mess is the gaping crater-like wound where Minki guesses he’d crash-landed and whatever magic was left in the broom after the lightning strike must’ve imploded on itself. The rest of the garden seems to be growing fine, just needing a little tidying up.

He spends a while surveying the damage, calculating, before finally trudging back to the cottage, muttering measurements and parsing through incantations in his head.

“How is it?” Comes Jonghyun’s soft, kind voice from the kitchen, no doubt fixing up a breakfast. Minki almost doesn’t hear him. Blinking out of his thoughts, he shakes his head and goes straight for the workshed.

“It’ll take time. I estimate a month, at least. With the right ingredients,” he mutters busily, bumbling about. “And my broom?” 

“I’d say the same,” the mage says with a thoughtful hum. “Though I thought growing spells were you witches’ specialty,” he continues with a cheeky grin, setting down a tray of pastries on the worktable.

Minki’s head whips round, narrowing his eyes at him, obviously offended. “If I smashed every plate in your kitchen, then yes, it’d be possible for me to fix everything by this evening and be on my merry way, as I’d very much love to! However, I wouldn’t be able to say the same for you if I threw said plates right at your perfect head-”

“My perfect head?” Jonghyun interjects dumbly, an amused smile playing at his lips. Minki’s grip on the handle of the silver bucket in his hand tightens. 

“Living things take time to heal, Kim Jonghyun. You _mages_ should know,” he hisses in response. “And I could say the same for you! Aren’t repairing things _your_ specialty?” He shoots. Jonghyun drops his shoulders with a small smile, raising his hands in defeat.

“You got me there. Tell me if you need anything,” he says and walks out, leaving a bristling Minki with his pastries.

“‘Tell me if you need anything’? Gah!” Minki burrows deeper into the soft quilts. “I’ll need my broom back this instant, thank you very much!” His howls came out very much muffled through the cotton which, as he pauses to think, were probably hand-sewn by the host who’s currently providing him with lodging and food and-

Minki cries into the mattress, feeling guilty and yet-

“He’s infuriating,” he says to no one in particular. Then, small, padded feet are stepping ever so slowly across his back. Lucky nibbles at his ear, mewing quietly. Instantly, Minki deflates.

“You’re right. Patience is indeed a virtue,” he says again to no one, with a sigh.

...

Minki isn’t around the next day. When Jonghyun calls him for breakfast, there isn’t any answer. He’d figured the witch must’ve slept in or gone for a walk. 

So he heads to the work shed and finds himself staring at the splintered wood sitting atop the worktable. He swears he can hear (more like feel) a low, incessant hum. As if the thing were saying, _get on with it, boy._ He rubs his neck, massaging the tension between his neck and shoulder, and lets out a breath.

He starts with some simple measurements. Tries to get it down to a T, lest he incur the sharp tongue of his new client. Then, there’s the question of wood. He supposes he could just replace it with another oak. Should be simple enough. There’s that low hum again. This time it says, not just any replacement would do, boy. Minki’s voice suddenly enters his mind, _shouldn’t you know, mage?_ He shakes his head.

He spends the next couple of hours in the library, rifling through texts and scanning through leather-bound books until he finds a yellowed piece of parchment wedged between an insect encyclopedia and a herbal medicine guidebook. 

**WOODS**

_APPLE - powerful and best suited to an owner of high aims and ideals_

_BLACKTHORN - best suited to warriors_

_CEDAR - strength of character and unusual loyalty_

_._

_._

_._

_EBONY - happiest in the hands of those with the courage to be themselves_

Jonghyun pauses, heart rate picking up. He sets the parchment down and writes some notes. Gently, he puts it back where he’d found it. He’ll have to make a few calls.

He sits alone at the dining table -fork and spoon poised, mashed potatoes hot, salad dressed and soup steaming. A good ten minutes passes before he realises that Minki probably won’t be turning up anytime soon. He stores the food in the oven to keep it warm, puts on a straw hat and gloves and heads out.

He’s a little ways away from the meadow when he hears sounds- wind chimes twinkling, water running, grass swaying. Being careful not to make any noise, he gently treads forward before coming to a stop behind a shady mimosa.

Minki stands in the middle of the meadow, eyes closed, purple hair fluttering about in slow waves, mouth moving wordlessly. At his feet stands a silver bucket full of water and flower petals. Thin threads of water with specks of colour, sparkling under the ripples of sunlight, stream out like tendrils; some spiraling around the witch while others, like hands, search for… something.

Jonghyun watches in awe at the glowing, golden-tinted scene. Watches the curve of Minki’s lips as he speaks soundless incantations. Watches the imaginary swirls of magic cascading out of him. 

After a long moment, he blinks out of his reverie and slowly backs away, leaving the witch to his devices.

“Why didn’t you call me for lunch? I could’ve died of hunger out there,” Minki says later that evening with a huff, depositing himself at the dining table, hair wrapped up in a towel, looking awfully comfortable for someone suffering from famine. Jonghyun shrugs, setting down a bowl of sliced fruits.

“I figured you didn’t want to be disturbed,” he placates. Minki’s already begun devouring the sweet flesh, stuffing himself with peaches, eating with both hands. Jonghyun fights the urge to laugh. For someone so elegant and uppity, he’s sure contradictory when it comes to table etiquette. 

“Well, you figured right, I guess,” the purple-haired man says after a beat with a low voice, cheeks tinted with embarrassment. 

Pause. Jonghyun cuts more fruit, Minki chews.

“These enchanted? They’re awfully sweet,” he says, shifting the topic. Jonghyun takes his seat, shaking his head.

“The soil’s good round these parts ‘s all,” he answers simply, sawing into a slice of chicken breast. Minki hums, and pushes the bowl aside, having eaten through half of it and starts on the main course.

“And my broom?” 

“The wood will take some time. Should be here by the end of the week, I reckon.”

Minki frowns at that. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. As long as it can fly,” he says. Jonghyun hums.

“Well it isn’t, particularly. Plus I know a guy who gives good prices. Don’t worry about it.” 

Minki mutters something to himself, grabs a piece of chicken and leans down. Jonghyun raises an eyebrow and bends to the side to find the witch’s little cat pouncing delightedly on the food. He smiles to himself. Just then, Minki catches his eye under the table. They hurriedly sit up, quickly getting back to their dinners, as if jolted by electricity. Jonghyun can feel his face get hot.

“So what do you deal with around these parts?” Minki says a while later, when the silence has simmered down to a comfortable one.

“Mostly woodwork and automatons. The occasional request for herbal medicine, but not much anymore. Books and shoes as well. Odd things really…” Jonghyun cuts himself off then with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, went off rambling there. What about you? What brings you here to ‘these parts’?” He asks with a curious glint in his eye. The witch rolls his eyes but it quickly turns into a faint smile.

“I’m travelling. To the ocean,” he says, a wistful tone to it. He doesn’t let himself get caught up and immediately tries to turn it around. “But I haven’t fully decided-”

“Beyond the mountains,” Jonghyun says then, offhandedly. Minki perks up at that, gaze willing him to continue. The mage chuckles softly.

“The ocean. There’s a town just up ahead. Five days’ travel by broom if you count meals, weather and sleep. Non-stop’ll be about three or less,” he reiterates. Minki’s leaning forward slightly now, though obviously trying to keep his excitement in check.

“Well, I guess I should pay a visit when we’re done here, then.”

Jonghyun sets his chin on his hand, dinner forgotten, watching with amusement as Minki mutters to himself about supplies and money, eyes agleam, sparkling almost.

...

Minki is up early the next morning as well. Jonghyun repeats the routine; breakfast, workshed, lunch and then right after, he finds himself treading carefully through the flowering bushes before once again coming to a stop behind the giant mimosa overlooking the meadow.

Minki is the same as yesterday; eyes closed, standing still with hair like a flower blooming and streams of magically-infused water reaching their arms out around him and outwards. Jonghyun watches for a little longer this time. The sounds of magic fills his ears.

Minki comes home in the afternoon this time for a light meal before disappearing once more. The next time Jonghyun meets him is at dinner with a towel around his head and freshly-painted turquoise nails.

He packs Minki a lunchbox the day after. The latter is clearly surprised, doe-eyes going wide when Jonghyun pushes the wrapped package into his hands just as he’s about to leave. His expression softens in a way Jonghyun’s never seen before. 

It’s a lasting image against the muted sunrise; his purple hair a dark violet against the mist. He was glowing silver, Jonghyun thinks throughout the day, almost missing the knock at the door, too lost in the mirage of Minki-

The pounding gets more aggressive. Jonghyun scrambles through the house, jumping at the knob. The door swings open to reveal a pair of glowing red eyes and furrowed brows.

“Your order, mage,” comes the gruff voice of the buff leather-clad man standing on his front porch. Jonghyun clears his throat and takes the quill and parchment, signing quickly.

“Thanks, Baekho,” he says, handing over a small velvet pouch. The man regards him coldly before turning away, morphing into an orange feline and slinking into the bushes, disappearing into the greenery.

In his place sits a bundle of ebony wood, raw and rough yet gleaming and glowing like embers of a fire.

It’s Jonghyun who misses a meal this time. He exits the work shed at half-past-nine to find Minki still at the dining table, hair-in-towel poring over what looks to be a letter with a fountain pen. His own plates are clean, having left enough for Jonghyun to eat.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” Jonghyun says sheepishly, taking a seat. The witch jumps a little, and leans closer to the table into a position that must be painful to write in.

“I’ve eaten,” he says, masking his slight panic and continues writing. Jonghyun smiles to himself and starts on his risotto. _Too salty._

“Who’s that for?” He asks without much thought before mentally kicking himself for prying. He tries to backtrack. “I mean you don’t have to tell me, of course-”

“A friend from the academy,” Minki answers coolly.

“Oh.”

Jonghyun continues his meal in silence. 

“Say, is there a post office around here?” Minki asks later as they wash the dishes. Jonghyun hums in the affirmative.

“There’s one down in the valley. I could take you tomorrow, if you want. Gotta do the groceries anyway,” Jonghyun says with an easy smile.

“Haven’t you got a car or anything?” Minki asks, unimpressed. Jonghyun continues prying out the bicycle from the shed with some difficulty. 

“Soon. I’m saving up,” he says with a grunt as the bike finally frees itself. It’s a rickety old thing but thankfully, looks sturdy enough. Minki frowns.

“Don’t you ever use that thing?” He asks incredulously. Jonghyun chuckles, tilting his head sideways in embarrassment.

“I usually just walk…” he says softly, trailing off to find Minki staring at him as if he’d just confessed to murder.

It’d turned out to be quite some fun. The path from the meadow had been a downwards glide all the way through with some sharp corners. Minki seemed to be having the time of his life, letting his arms catch the wind while Jonghyun most probably strained a muscle getting them through the turnings. 

“I forgot what that was like. Sorta like flying don’t you think?!” Minki says excitedly as they halt to a stop in front of the post office. Jonghyun flashes him a weak smile and a strained _‘yeah, sorta’._

Jonghyun waits as Minki waltzes into the post office, acting like he’s been a regular all his life. The folks in there can’t keep their eyes off him. And Jonghyun finds that neither can he. 

So he watches as Minki flashes a bright smile, dimples and all and politely requests a stamp. He strikes a short conversation with another lady waiting in line and waves her goodbye when he's done, telling her he hopes to see her again. He catches Jonghyun’s gaze and raises an eyebrow. The mage merely swallows and turns on his heel in the direction of the market, heat creeping up the back of his neck.

“So were you born in these parts?” 

They’re walking back up to the cottage after a day-long tour of the town. Minki trails behind, munching on a bag of toffee while Jonghyun pushes the bike along with their groceries. His voice is a little distant, a little distracted as he looks around him, taking in the view of the valley and the mountains.

“No, I’m from the East. By the sea. I came here a couple years ago for an apprenticeship and I’ve been here ever since,” Jonghyun answers easily enough. Minki hums thoughtfully, draining a box of apple juice.

“You didn’t go to an academy?”

“There weren’t any where I’m from.”

“Huh…” The conversation strays, the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves filling the silence instead. 

“What’s it like? The sea,” Minki’s voice is softer now, filled with longing. Jonghyun’s a little taken aback. His steps slow to a stop. He speaks without turning to the witch but instead tilts his head up.

“Big… and blue. Like the sky,” he says, turning to Minki now, with a small, gentle smile, eyes creasing around the corners.

A gust of wind passes through just then, bringing with it the scent of camellias, carding its invisible fingers through their hair. Minki looks at him, eyes wide and sparkling, hair turning silver under the sun. And he smiles. 

The moment passes. He shakes his head and turns away, walking ahead with a spring to his step, purple locks fluttering in his wake.

“I’ll just have to see for myself, then.”

“I’m not doing it.”

Jonghyun suppresses a laugh and holds out a hand to Minki who is currently standing in the furthest corner of the kitchen away from the stove, hair dirty with sauce, pretty face matted with herbs. 

“You’ll be fine,” the mage assures, giving the other man a tight smile, trying his best not to burst-

“You’re laughing!” Minki whines, stomping like a five year old, backing away to the archway connected to the living room.

“I’m not, I swear!” Jonghyun says, shoulders shuddering, head bowed. There’s a cry of frustration and more stomping as Minki storms off. 

A firm, warm grip on his wrist is what keeps him. And Kim Jonghyun’s face flushed with laughter, eyes curving prettily as he looks at him pleadingly. Minki’s feels his face get hot. Like a damned puppy, he thinks, and rolls his eyes, giving in.

“I’ll fix the soup. You can get to the potatoes, okay?” Jonghyun tells him. There’s a grumble along the lines of, don’t blame me if it’s charred and you get a stomach ache and so on.

Minki does as he’s told, moving mechanically to Jonghyun’s gentle instructions. After a while, they let the food cook over the fire and take a breather over some organic beer they’d picked up from the market.

“What was the academy like?” Jonghyun asks suddenly, curiously.

“Well they didn’t teach us cooking, for one,” Minki quips, taking a swig. Jonghyun chuckles, resting his head against his hand, listening intently. Minki thinks on his answer for a bit.

“It was stifling to say the least. We were evaluated round the clock. I hated it,” he starts, sounding bitter, before his tone changes to something akin to nostalgia. “But now that I’ve left it feels like I’m some kind of lost kite, just flying around on my broom.”

Jonghyun is silent, waiting for him to continue. Minki smiles inwardly. 

“I’d like to open a shop of some sort. I wouldn’t mind becoming something of a beautician or along those lines. Learnt all sorts of potions that might help with that…” He trails off, watching the soup boil in its pot. Jonghyun looks at him with a lopsided kind of smile.

“A shop by the beach where all sorts of people go to look their best. Sounds like a dream to me,” he says kindly. Minki shrugs, rising from his seat and turning the fire down.

“Yes, a dream,” he says, voice low and almost sad. Jonghyun joins him, setting the table.

“I’ll be your first customer. You could dye my hair blue and paint my nails,” he says later, digging into the pasta. Minki cracks a smile then.

“And maybe some enchanted honey on your skin-”

“Or an everlasting perm!”

They burst into laughter at the thought of it, heady and tipsy off the beer and relaxed after a long day.

…

It’s a chilly morning.

Minki’d thought he was the first one up until he finds Jonghyun asleep against the dining table, lunchboxes wrapped in fabric at his side. He gets a blanket from the living room sofa and wraps the mage up before leaving as quietly as he can for the days’ work.

The sun’s out nice and bright when he takes his first break, sitting at the spot where it’s the warmest, munching on cereal and strawberries. The rays of sun cascade upon his skin gently and warmly, reminding him of curved lips and a firm hold around his wrist, the smell of herbs and sliced peaches…

> _The visitor is strong,_ comes a small voice that definitely isn’t the one in his head. Minki’s head snaps round to find… nothing. He doesn’t feel any other presence.
> 
> _The visitor senses us,_ comes another. There’s a chorus that follows, agreeing with the one voice. Minki frowns, craning his head to look for its source.
> 
> _He’s skilled-_
> 
> _More so than the gardener-_
> 
> _Not as gentle-_
> 
> _Strong-willed-_

“Who’s there?” his voice rings around the space. The voices die down for a moment before building up into excited murmurs.

> _My, he’s heard us!_ Comes their soft yet shrill tone.
> 
> _He’s a special one at that-_
> 
> _-an affinity for water-_
> 
> _A gifted beauty, truly!_
> 
> _The gardener must be blessed-_

“A little rude to be speaking about someone right in front of them, don’t you think?” Minki wonders aloud, irritated.

> _You’re doing wonderfully dear-_
> 
> _Keep it up, don’t pay us any mind-_

It is then that he notices the swaying roses, the grass curling beneath his feet, the intense rustling of the canopy overhead. The meadow’s been speaking to him. He lets out a sigh.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, changing his tone to a more respectful one. It will definitely make his job here easier. That seems to calm them. The voices die down with one collective hum. A wave of tuberose scent washes over him, letting him know he’s got their blessing to continue his work.

Finishing up the last of the sponge cake, he dusts himself off before taking his position by the silver bucket.

His hands are red and raw. Nothing a little balm can't help heal.

He stares at the jet-black stick, polished down with its pieces of bark scattered around messily. It’s progress enough for today. Any more and it would end up being too brittle to retain any magic. Even inanimate objects take time to mould into magical absorbents.

He sets it aside carefully, cleaning the place up before moving on to other orders; rejuvenating a stack of ancient leather-bound diaries belonging to the town council library, enchanting a cart of limestones for a new church and mending and restoring a particularly frail wedding dress.

Minki pokes his head through the door on the last order.

“-the fruit peeler- What’s that? It’s beautiful,” he says stepping in, entranced by the garment. Jonghyun rubs the back of his neck, considering his next words carefully.

“I wasn’t really thinking when I took this one in. Not sure how to go about it-”

“I’ll help you,” Minki says without any hesitation, surging forward. Jonghyun sputters and begins protesting him, _you’re helping enough with the garden, you’re a guest, it’s fine,_ _I’ll-_

“I want to,” the witch says, with a sort of quiet finality Jonghyun finds hard to challenge. 

“Teach me then,” he says after a while. Finally, Minki spares him a small smile.

“Sure.”

  
  


They spend the rest of the day on it, with Minki teaching him useful incantations for clothes and sewing and Jonghyun taking down notes fervently. He keeps up alright but concludes that delicate, detailed work isn’t really for him.

The weeks go flying by with Minki and Jonghyun both spending most of their days on their respective tasks. 

They meet for dinner everyday. Minki learns to cook. Jonghyun tries his best to teach him. It doesn’t work very often with the witch giving up most of the time, leaving the mage a giggling mess to finish it all up.

They go to town twice a week for groceries. The bike goes a little faster and smoother now with the use of a little charm. The ladies at the market coo and smother Minki, showering him with little pouches of candy and free seed samples.

One night, they find themselves on the porch, organic beer in hand. The fireflies are out, lighting up the garden with a warm, golden glow as they buzz about.

“The flowers talk about you,” Minki says, looking out at the garden with a serene expression, absentmindedly rubbing Lucky under her chin. Jonghun turns to him, surprised.

“And what do they say?”

“You’ve got a green thumb. But not much affinity. You try your best and work hard. But you haven’t figured them out yet… whatever that means,” he says with a little shake of his head, taking a swig. Jonghyun hums thoughtfully.

“Wood is easier to work with,” he says after a moment. Minki turns to him with a strange, endearing expression.

“You like dead things?”

Jonghyun chuckles. “They’re not completely dead. They sing, just like the flowers. But more muted, old.”

Minki laughs airily. “Build me a house sometime, will you?”

“I’m right here if you need me to,” Jonghyun responds without missing a beat, holding his bottle out.

Minki meets him halfway, their glasses clinking above the sounds of the night.

…

Minki, unsurprisingly, sleeps in the next day; a side effect of the previous nights’ drinking. Even witches are bound to suffer from hangovers once in a while.

Jonghyun sets out early to catch the morning dew. The instructions had specifically said that it was a make-or-break element in making the head of the broom. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to travel far at all, really.

The lavender bush behind the cottage is bountiful this time round. Its purple tint is an eery grey through the morning mist but as the sky clears up, it begins to show its true brilliance.

Jonghyun goes through each and every one of them, picking only the best, whispering charms and words of encouragement. He then spreads the bundle atop the roof of the workshed, letting it dry while absorbing the energy of the sun.

Minki appears from his room at noon, bleary eyed and groaning. A few bowls of onion soup seem to do the trick for some strange reason as well as what seems to be a bucketful of water. 

He proceeds to work on a letter for the rest of the day while Jonghyun retreats into the shed.

…

It is a few days later when they set out to the meadow together. 

“Come with me tomorrow. I want to show you something,” is what Minki had said the night before as they were washing up after dinner. Jonghyun had just nodded, slightly confuddled.

Now, as they’re treading through the soft overgrown grass, the moss padding their feet, Jonghyun watches Minki’s back, tall and slender. Watches the ripple of the yellow chiffon blouse against his pale skin, his purple locks swishing in a ponytail.

They reach the clearing soon enough. Jonghyun balks at the scene, awestruck.

The flower bed now encapsulates the entire forest floor. Any signs of damage from the storm are long gone. The trees are healthy, humming lowly, deep under the earth beneath their feet. The willows sway calmly, its tendrils inviting them in.

Minki turns to him, eyes bright, taking his hand, pulling him along, walking backwards, gaze never leaving his. They come to a stop right under a pool of gold, where the canopy parts to let the rays of sun blaze through. To their left, the valley opens up like a canvas, the town alive and bustling in the distance. 

Minki’s smiling at him, and he’s glowing brighter than he always does. Jonghyun doesn’t look away.

_‘Watch this,’_ he mouths and closes his eyes.

Then, there’s a jolt of warm energy coursing through Jonghyun’s veins, circulating throughout his entire body. And he watches as flowers of every colour begin to bloom, starting from beneath his leather heels before carpeting the hills down to the valley.

It’s an explosion of colour and smell, flowers popping up from the ground like the waves coming onto a shore. A gust of wind washes over them when it’s finished. Jonghyun swears he’d felt the land breathe a sigh of relief, caressing the two of them for the work well done.

Tears prickle the corner of his eyes. He blinks them away quickly before turning to Minki, who stands right by his side, fingers still intertwined with his, watching him with a fond smile.

“They’ll last through the summer,” he says, voice light. Jonghyun finds himself at a loss for words.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” is all he can manage. Minki breaks into a grin then, coughing into his hand with laughter.

“Sure.”

They have a quiet picnic after, just the two of them, looking out at the hills, at the valley, at the sea of flowers spread out before them.

  
  
  


They spend a lot of time on the workshed roof after that, basking in the daylight.

Jonghyun sits opposite Minki, finishing up the leather seat with his improved sewing skills while the witch meticulously puts together the broomhead, braiding the dried lavender stalks together and tying them to its ebony body.

They work in quiet tandem, pausing for coffee breaks every now and then, looking out to the valley below, the sweet scent of camellia wafting through the air.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Jonghyun says flatly, standing awkwardly behind the sofa while Minki’s busy parsing through a small shelf of old tapes.

“Well, I do. If there’s one thing I learned from the academy, it’s how to dance,” he says, brandishing a foreign title with a grin before slotting it into his little portable radio. Jonghyun gulps as the first track filters through the living room.

_Let me hold your hand-_

Minki’s hands are in his, gently tugging him to the center of the space. The carpet is ticklish under his feet. The witch guides them clumsily into a one-step routine. They fumble about through half the song, stepping on each other’s feet, laughing.

Jonghyun lets all his inhibitions loose, a smile curving into his lips as he watches Minki do his best with a bright grin.

“You don’t actually know how to dance, do you?” Jonghyun says with an airy tone. Minki shrugs as they stumble once more.

“And you do. So we’re even.”

...

“Sky’s clear, not a drop of cloud to be seen. Wind's a little strong, but nothing we can’t handle, right Lucky?” The cat mews, digging into the leather bag Jonghyun had made for them as a goodbye present.

“Yes, I’ll keep the forecast on. I’ve grown, don’t you know?” Minki coos, earning a purr in agreement.

The mage appears from inside the house, clutching a familiar something-wrapped-in-fabric.

“About two days’ worth and-” he begins. Minki silences him by taking it off his hands with a pointed look.

“North, yes?” He reaffirms. Jonghyun gulps and nods.Then, he straightens and hands Minki the broom. 

It’s a simple, elegant thing. Jet-black, polished, not too smooth, a purple tail, its lavender scent mild. _Strong-willed._

“Just like its rider,” he says softly. Minki smiles at him, gently taking it in his own hands and mounting it without even a second’s hesitation.

> “I’ll write you as soon as we get there.”
> 
> “I’ll be waiting.”
> 
> “I’ll visit as much as I can.”
> 
> “I’ll be right here.”
> 
> “Save up quicker for that car, alright?”
> 
> “I’ll try my best.”
> 
> “I’ll miss you.”
> 
> “Me too.”
> 
> Minki nods and sets his shoulders. Jonghyun takes a step back.

The witch closes his eyes, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Energy begins to crackle and fizz through the air. Purple locks flutter slowly, like tendrils reaching for the sun. There’s a moment of pin-drop silence before it all bursts.

Minki springs up high into the air with a joyful cry and zips away, leaving a lavender-scented breeze in his wake. Jonghyun smiles at the sky, takes a moment, and turns to head back into the cottage.

But suddenly, there’s an excited whooping echoing through the sky. 

Minki loops through the air, once, twice, thrice before descending towards him. Jonghyun watches him, gobsmacked.

> “You didn’t think I’d leave just like that, did you?!” He calls out, grinning.
> 
> “What-”
> 
> “You’re in it, Kim Jonghyun!”
> 
> The mage sputters frantically. “What?”
> 
> “That dream of mine; the sea, the shop, everything! You’re with me there.”
> 
> Jonghyun blinks. “Yes…”
> 
> “God, you’re simple!”

And the witch is standing, leaning down on the tip of the broom, lips finding the mage’s in a soft, sweet kiss. Like a flower blooming, warm. Jonghyun doesn’t even register the fireflies in his stomach before it’s ended.

“I want you in my happy ending, Kim Jonghyun. What do you think?” Minki says, grinning again, teeth and dimples and all. Jonghyun nods and nods, until he’s sure he’s given himself a headache.

> “I’ll teach you to cook,” he says earnestly. Minki’s expression softens so.
> 
> “And I’ll dye your hair blue and paint your nails-”
> 
> “We’ll drive along the beach-”
> 
> “Maybe open a flower shop on the side-”
> 
> “But I’ll love you through a storm-”
> 
> “I’ll love you to the moon.”
> 
> “I’ll love you all the same.” There’s a pause; it's the spring breeze telling them to get on with it.

“Catch you later, mage,” Minki says then, voice getting further away, rising high into the sky.

“Good luck around those parts, witch,” Jonghyun responds, grinning so wide his face hurts.

And Minki is gone round the mountains then, leaving behind a valley of flowers and an empty cavity in Kim Jonghyun’s chest, having stolen his heart away with the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Ep--DPD8ZA&list=LLu_rySLxPu3kLSPP891ddGg&index=156&t=821s) is what i based jonghyun’s garden off of  
> -the town in which jonghyun lives is based on fex valley, switzerland. meanwhile, the town which lies beyond the mountains is based on positano, italy  
> -inspired heavily by kiki's delivery service and the delightful howl's moving castle novel by diana wynne jones
> 
> my sincerest thanks to the mods of the fest. you guys have done a wonderful job. can't wait for the next one!
> 
> to many more years with nu'est.


	2. minki's letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which minki writes to an old friend

_ Minhyun, _

_ How’s things at the atelier? I’m sure Madame Kahi is giving you a hard time. I hope she is. You deserve it, big head. Anyway, less about you. More about me. Met a storm the other day. Split my broom in half. Landed in a bed of roses, as I should have. I think I’m somewhere inland in the Western parts. A mage found me and fixed me up. He’s a peculiar one. Not a thought in his head to even consider if I’m some kind of psychotic rogue. A gentle soul, as one may say. Not the type I get along with. Cooking’s fantastic. He’s helping me with my broom. In exchange, I’m helping him with his garden. The crash-landing killed a patch of lovely white ones. Might do something a little extra if I’m feeling generous. We’ll see how it goes. I expect to be on my way in about a month or so. The sea awaits. I’ll write to you again soon, just so you can quit your nagging. _

_ Yours, _

_ Minki _

* * *

_ Minhyun, _

_ How’s the atelier? You still struggling? I sure hope so. Everything’s fine here. The mage has proved to be quite the skilled craftsmen. His shed’s a little messy. Just how I like it. Can’t say the same for you, can I? Won’t you take up my recommendation on considering a job in the sanitary department? You’d thrive, I’m sure. Less about you, more about me. He’s from the East, by the sea. Never went to an academy. It’s like we’re living in two different worlds. The scenery here is different as well. None of that metal mishmash we’ve got in the city. I quite like it. My broom’s halfway done. I’ll get to see the sea soon. There isn’t much I can say to you so I’ll end it here for now. _

_ Yours, _

_ Minki _

_ P.S. Please don’t write to me anymore about that foreigner senior materials specialist of yours. I’ll just bin it. _

* * *

_ Minhyun, _

_ How’s life in the atelier? Has your heart been broken yet? Don’t worry, it’s bound to happen. My broom’s almost done. It’s a bundle of lavender, freshly dried and sweet like me topping an ebony body, black like my soul. Matches my hair as well. I’ll be out of here in about a week or two. About the thing you said, I think he’ll like it very much. It’s taken longer than I’d expected but I’m sure it’ll work. Thanks. Guess that big head of yours does have some use after all. I’ve grown to like it here. Quite a bit, unfortunately. I’ve even learned to cook, somewhat. Cheers to me avoiding starvation. Jonghyun says there’s baumkuchen where I’m headed. Mountains of them. Maybe I’ll send some over when I get there. For now, can’t say I’m too thrilled about leaving. I’d hate to use the word ‘sad’, but that’s probably what it is. I can’t afford to be. I’ll write to you once I get settled in. Maybe even send a postcard. _

_ Yours, _

_ Minki _

_ P.S. I’d like an order of a chiffon tunic, whatever colour suits me best. You’d know. By your hands. _

* * *

_ Dear Jonghyun, _

_ I’m writing this while sitting on the sand, waves lapping against the shore, the big blue spread out before me, sort of like the sky. It’s a little hot around these parts. I like it. Just as you said, there’s an unhealthy amount of bakeries selling baumkuchen around here. I’ve bought one from each of them. Lucky fancies them just as much as I do. The town is busier than I would’ve thought. Reminds me of my home in the city although I very much prefer it here than there. But I also miss the hills. How are the flowers? Do they talk to you now? Do they tell you about me? I hope they do. Send them my love. And send me some recipes of yours. I’ve been looking around for a place to stay. Might want to try making that onion soup. Can’t say it’ll bode well for me. I’ll let you know how it goes. I’ll write you at the end of the week. I’ll write you everyday if you want me to. I don’t know how long it will be before I can come visit but there’s a bus station here so maybe, if you have the time… I’d very much love to show you around. _

_ And I very much miss you. _

_ And I very much love you. _

_ Yours, _

_ Minki _


End file.
